She turns when she sees me and smiles. My heart clenches.
How long will she continue to smile at me? She won’t be pleased to see me anymore when she knows I’m keeping her against her will.
“I’ve been thinking,” she says, planting a kiss on my lips, “about my last message from London.”
I keep my voice even, not showing how important this is. “Oh yeah?”
“She said she’d been walking down memory lane, seeing some of the same stuff we saw when we were here as kids. So maybe she went to the Louvre. She’s never loved art much, but there’s plenty of great photo opportunities. I’ve seen her do the thing where she mimics a statue.”
I’ve already checked London’s Instagram account. There are no photos from her time in France. “Or maybe she went to Reims.”
Her brow furrows as she considers this. “Maybe.”
I have a different idea of what London meant by memory lane, but I can’t share that with Holly. Not yet. “What else did she say about her trip? Did she share an itinerary?”
“Nah, she didn’t like to travel that way. She’d drive to the airport and fly standby. Or go to the train station and buy a ticket for whatever was the next train. A free spirit.”
Or fucking crazy. “Did she have a favorite hotel?”
“She never stayed at the same place twice. She said it was a waste of a trip to do the same thing.”
Which makes her hard to track. And the clock is ticking, both for London and for Holly. “Okay, then was there anything she hadn’t seen in Paris that she wanted to see?”
She shakes her head. “No—except, well, she did love the Catacombs. I think she goes there every time she’s in Paris. I always give her a hard time about how it’s gross.”
I pull out my phone and scroll to her account. Way down from last year there’s a photo of her standing in the Catacombs with bones on either side, no one else around. “Who takes these photos?”
A shrug. “London’s always attracting Instagram boyfriends. Guys who will follow her around taking pictures. Or maybe it’s someone who works there.”
“No, look. It’s empty. You don’t see it like that during a regular tour.”
“You think she—what? Broke in?”
That makes me smile. “I meant, maybe she got someone to let her in off hours. But I like the way you think, sweetheart.”
She blushes. “Well, I wouldn’t put it past my sister, but she means well.”
I’m not so sure about that, but I know that Holly loves her sister. And I can even understand it. I would probably kill anyone who looked at Liam sideways, and I’ve only known him a few hours. Holly’s been close with her sister her whole life. “It’s a long shot, but we can go ask around. And while we’re there, we can visit the Catacombs. I’ve never been.”
A shudder. “I’ve never been either… on purpose.”
“You don’t like human bone architecture?”
“Sure, I like it. When it’s making the human body. Not walls in a dark tunnel.”
“You know… there’s something reminiscent of your tooth fairy with her room made of teeth, her house bricked with teeth, the street paved with teeth.”
That earns me a glare. “This is totally different.”
“Aren’t teeth made of the same thing as bones?”
Her lips quirk. “Fine. It’s a little bit different. And I’ll go in there, but only for my sister.”
I pull open the wardrobe and find a black-and-white dress with spaghetti straps, low cleavage, and a flowy pleated bottom. She will look fucking edible. “Wear this,” I say, handing it over.
She raises her eyebrows but accepts the dress. “Are you this bossy with all your girlfriends?”
The word makes my chest constrict. Girlfriend? I’ve definitely never had one of those before. I’ve fucked women—efficiently, ruthlessly. But yes, if she is my girlfriend, I like deciding what sexy dress she will wear. Other men will want her body, but only I will get to taste her.
“Yes,” I say because I’m this bossy with her.
She rolls her eyes, which I also like. As long as she wears the dress.
When she comes out of the room, she does a twirl for me. Then I’m on top of her, feasting on her milky skin and biting her tits. There’s no way she can leave the safe house like this. I mark every inch of exposed skin and fuck her until her eye makeup looks like a dark mess.
She’s even more beautiful this way.
Then she changes into a pale pink sweater dress and washes her face, making her look incredibly innocent. I almost, almost have to fuck her again. She tests my control at every stage. But it’s worth the restraint when we step outside the safe house. She takes a deep breath.
Waning sunlight gives her skin an orange wash. And I know in this moment that the nightmare is miles away from her. In this moment she thinks she’s safe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Holly
The next day dawns bright and sunny, and I feel almost hopeful about our situation.
We didn’t find any clues at the Catacombs. The people who worked there swore they’d never seen her, and they had no idea how the photo on her feed was taken. But we’re free and safe and healthy. A million miles away from the cold prison cell.
I find Elijah in the sitting area with a cup of coffee and a laptop open. He tilts it slightly toward me when I sit down beside him so that I can see what he’s doing. There are a few chat windows open, where I can see him making inquiries into the location of London Frank.
He taps one that hasn’t responded. “I have high hopes for this woman. She’s the best hacker I know. And expensive. If your sister has any digital footprint, she’ll find it.”
“And if she doesn’t?” I ask, worried.
His expression gentles. “She will. I’m sure of it. And while I’m waiting for an answer, we have lunch with my brother before he goes back.”
“Goes back?”
“To the States. He has a… daughter, I guess you could say. An adopted daughter.”
“Oh, that’s sweet.”
“Right,” he says in a strangled tone. “Sweet.”
“So have you met his girl?”
There’s a weighted pause. “No. In fact I hadn’t seen my brother in years. Since before we met.”
“I thought that might be the case,” I say, touching the back of his hand. He’s helping me find my sister; I want him to know that I’m here for him, too. He may have his brother physically, but he’s been without a family emotionally for a long time.
He stands, pulling away from me in a brusque manner. “Listen, while we’re looking for London, I also need to wrap up loose ends with my commanding officer.”
“The diamonds,” I say, and he stops.
“What did you say?”
“I remember Adam asking where they were.”
“Right,” he mutters.
“You said you didn’t know, but you do know, right?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Are you some kind of human lie detector?”
“No.” I give him a shy smile. “I think it’s just you that I can read.”